• Winter Strike: Into the Fairy Realm



    Dear reader,

    Before I met Winter Strike, my everyday schedule could be boiled down to a flavorless mush: I went to school, came home, took a bath, and went to bed. I don’t suppose I realized it at the time, but I was probably terribly bored.
    This book is about the adventures I had with Winter and how I cam to know her. If you were looking for a good read, then by all means, read on. However, if you were looking for inspiration for your next vacation, then this book is definitely NOT for you. For the Fairy Realm is a dangerous place…………and not all those who go in ever come out again.

    Now read on!

    - Lilia Starlit




    Chapter 1: A Snowy Day to Remember

    I’ll never forget the day I met Winter Strike. It was a snowy day, and school had been canceled because of the blizzard. I was reading an anthology when I suddenly looked out the window. I’m not sure why I did, but there, right across the street, was a strange girl holding a book and staring straight up at me.
    Now, usually, people don’t go out in the middle of a blizzard just to talk to a strange girl whom they had never met, but apparently I wasn’t most people, because that’s exactly what I did. I put on my slippers, wrapped a coat around myself, thankful that I was wearing sweatpants, and hurried outside.
    But the girl had gone. When I reached the place that she had been all that was there was the book that she had been holding. I picked it up and hurried back inside my house. It was only after I had gotten to my room that it crossed my mind to actually READ the book.
    I looked down at the book to see that it was called, “The History of the Fairy Realm”. What was more, the cover was made of leather, with 3 locks keeping people from opening it. There was a ring with what seemed to be hundreds of skeleton keys, hanging from a blue string that was taped to the cover.
    Picking up the keys, I tried several of them on the first lock, until I found the right one. Thinking it would be nice to know what key went to what in the future, I took up a blue Sharpie and wrote a tiny number one on the key. I did the same with the second and third key as well, writing a different number for each.
    Walking over to my bed, I opened up the book to the first page and read:
    “The Fairy Realm is a mysterious place where few have ever returned from. The people who inhabit this place do not wish their secrets to be revealed to those who would seek to destroy them. They do not wish to go to war with humans or animals. For they are a peaceful kind and dislike fighting. This book is about the history of the Fairy Realm and its inhabitants from beginning to end, but be warned: This book holds many secrets that make it dangerous. If it were to get into the wrong hands, the Fairy Realm would be in jeopardy of total annihilation.”

    I stared at the paragraph before my eyes in stunned silence. I had never seen anything like this before. The book looked as if it had been written completely by hand, and by different people too, if there was anything to be said from the various styles of writing in other parts of the book. Flipping to the back of the book, I saw that at least half of the book, which was roughly three or four inches thick, had no writing on it.
    “It’s not finished. It’s almost as if it’s waiting for somebody to finish writing the rest of it. Almost as if………”
    Almost as if it expects me to finish it, I thought to myself. But that was just plain ridicules, because the handwriting looked to be quite old – older than even my parents – so how could the people who wrote it have predicted that I would find it? That just didn’t make sense. Deciding that a little sleep might do me some good, I closed the book, locked it, and put under my pillow for safe keeping. After a moments thought, I hid the keys next to the book under my pillow. Then I turned off the light, pulled the covers up to my chin, and fell asleep. Which was why I never noticed the strange girl standing across the street......watching me.

    *****

    The next morning, I got up, and got ready for school, making sure that I packed the book, along with the keys that went to it, in to my backpack. I didn’t want to let it out of my sight, in case I lost it, or somebody stole it.
    The school I went to was called the Atlanta’s Academy for Girls. It was an all girl school, though thankfully we didn’t have to wear uniforms like the other all girl schools that lived in the area. However, there was one problem with this school that the other schools were undoubtedly thankful they didn’t have to deal with. And that problem was Kara Taylor. Kara, or rather “The Queen” as people called her, was a deceitful, cruel, and downright nasty person, and with her personal gaggle of five girls, who had been nicknamed “The Royal Guard”, always surrounding her, she was more than a match for the girls of Atlanta’s Academy. The teachers of Atlanta’s Academy seem not to see past The Queen’s enchanting smile and pretty violet colored eyes to the nasty soul within, so she never got in trouble for any of the horrible things she did.
    I was probably one of the few people who had never had to so much as talk to Kara, which I was very thankful for. If I had known that Kara would choose that day to start up a conversation with me, however, I probably would have stayed home saying that I was sick. But I didn’t know, so that day was the day that I would learn first hand just how great it is to be the princess of her own country.
    The moment I walked into the school yard, I knew that the perfect record that I had cherished for so long was about to come to an abrupt halt. For there she was along with her Royal Guard, walking straight towards me. The Queen of Atlanta’s Academy for Girls, and I could tell that she meant business. Unfortunately, my legs refused to move, so I had no option other than to wait for what was to come.
    “All right, punk. Where is it? Where’s my necklace?” Kara said. She seemed to be trying to talk civilly with me, and I couldn’t figure out why until it dawned on me why it was that she had left me alone for so long: she wanted me to be part of her little squadron. This was probably due to the fact that I was a princess of Bulgaria and had been in the newspaper numerous times in the past.
    “Do you mean the one you were wearing yesterday?” I asked, acting concerned, but inside, my head was racing. If she did meant that necklace that she had had on yesterday, then I knew what had happened to it alright. I had watched the boy steal it from Kara’s bag as she was walking home from school. Since we both walked the same way to and from school until road turned onto 42nd Street, I had watched as the boy had walked up behind Kara and quickly but carefully stolen the necklace from her bag. Kara had said goodbye to her friends a few blocks back, so she had no idea who had stolen it or when. All these thoughts raced through my head as I watched The Queen nod sullenly at me.
    “I saw who stole it from you, but I don’t know the boy personally. However, he was wearing a blue leather jacket, and gray sweatpants. He had black hair and looked like he had a lot of experience with stealing things.” I said, furrowing my eyebrows as I tried to recall what the boy had looked like.
    “That sounds like a description of Ricardo Olandro. He lives right across the street from me. Oh just wait until I get my hands on him. Thank you Lilia, for telling me.” And with that, she stalked off, and I gave a big sigh of gratitude that I had been born a princess, or I doubted that I would have gotten out of that situation in such good shape. Then I remembered that she had called me by my first name, as if we were friends, and I was suddenly simmering with anger. I continued to be angry all the way in to the building and up to the classroom. Then I finally let it go and got my stuff out for the first class of the day.